


Academia

by lilli_ofthe_valley



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Based on a Tumblr Post, Crossdressing, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Roleplay, Top!Brian, Top!Roger, a bit of smut, bottom!Roger, bottom!brian, brian puts too much pressure on himself, don't take this too seriously it's borderline crackfic, sometimes u try smth new and it doesn't quite work out, that's right these boys do it both ways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 11:01:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17938499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilli_ofthe_valley/pseuds/lilli_ofthe_valley
Summary: “Hey,” Roger says, shifting in his seat to get closer to Brian, “can I ask you something?"Brian blinks. “Yeah, course.”“How d’you feel about roleplay?”Brian inhales a bit of tea, and coughs into his mug. He dumps the mug onto the table with a clatter, and coughs into his elbow. “I’m sorry?” he croaks.Brian is feeling stressed. Roger is feeling creative.Maybe something new to spice up the bedroom can help them both out.Or maybe it might backfire.





	Academia

**Author's Note:**

> woo my first maylor fic! i wrote this FOREVER ago but only just made a new ao3 account to upload it, bc slashfic doesn't at ALL suit my other account. so i guess this is kind of like a sideblog on tumblr, but an ao3 account? anyway this is based off a tumblr text post that I CANNOT FIND, but if i do come across it/anyone sends it to me i'll include a link.  
> i pictured 70s!queen when writing this, but borhap!queen works just as well! whatever floats ya boat!

     It‘s an uncharacteristically warm and sunny day in London, and Brian is enjoying a nice, leisurely breakfast, and perusing the morning paper. For the first time in forever, he's not thinking about work, about upcoming assessments, about any of life’s stresses. He's even dug out his special mug for this particular Saturday morning, the extra-large one he was gifted a couple Christmases ago by his parents, the one he usually hides in fear of either Freddie or Roger damaging it. (John, he wouldn’t have to worry about. If he asked John not to use his mug, then John wouldn’t use his mug. The same can't be said for the others.) There‘s no special occasion for his special mug to be used, other than Brian just felt like such a peaceful, lovely morning warranted a special mug.

     He‘s just considering moving to the other side of the table to have the morning sunshine on his back when Roger saunters into the room, still only in his boxers and socks, his long, blond hair a mess, like it always is in the mornings.

     “Good morning,” he says, ducking to drop a kiss to Brian’s cheek.

     “Morning, love,” Brian replies easily, not even looking up from his paper.

     “Kettle still hot?”

     Brian hums. “Probably not. I’ve been up for a while now.”

     Roger refills the kettle and puts it on. “Is that a new mug?”

     Brian pauses, and then lies. “Yes.”

     “It’s nice. I might nick it, if that’s all right with you.”

     Brian takes a sip. “Sure.” _If you can find it_ , he thinks.

     Roger leans against the kitchen bench, his fingers tapping out some random beat, his gaze never settling on one spot for too long, and Brian can’t help but idly notice that, while Roger always carries a certain high energy with him, he seems notably more fidgety than normal.

     He loves Roger, but the boy very rarely knows how to take five minutes to be still.

     Brian has a feeling the calm, peaceful part of his morning has exited the building.

     “Where’re the others?” Roger asks.

     “John left early,” Brian says, glancing up at him, his brow slightly creased. “Visiting his parents for the weekend. Freddie’s still in bed, I think.”

     “Asleep?”

     “I imagine so.”

     Roger nods, his head bobbing rapidly, like a bobble-head toy.

     Brian sighs, and closes his newspaper, officially throwing in the towel. “You having breakfast?”

     Roger hums noncommittally. “Might do. Not sure yet.”

     “Is everything all right?”

     The kettle dings, and Roger makes himself a cup of tea, almost spilling boiling water over his hand. “Me? Oh, yeah. Yeah.”

     “You seem... I don’t know.”

     Roger slides in opposite Brian and takes a sip of his tea, flinching and muttering, “Ow, hot.” He takes another sip immediately after, with the same result.

     “...extra energetic, this morning,” Brian finishes, a touch dryly.

     “Do I?” Roger makes a third attempt with his tea, and recoils, pulling a face that Brian finds stupidly adorable. Roger touches his lip with a delicate finger. “Burnt my lip.”

     “Well, that’s what happens when you try to drink it straight from the kettle,” Brian says.

     “Cheers,” Roger retorts sarcastically, “I’d have never figured that out without you.”

     “You seemed to be struggling with it,” Brian says, patting Roger’s hand mock-condescendingly. “Thought I’d help.”

     Roger ignores him, and goes to take another sip of his tea. Brian laughs. “Rog, it’s still going to be just as hot as before, you knob.”

     Roger takes a sip anyway, and jerks back with a hissed, “Ouch.”

     Brian laughs again, and this time Roger joins in.

     “You have the least amount of impulse control of anyone I have ever met,” Brian says.

     “Hey,” Roger says, the last conversation already forgotten, shifting in his seat to get closer to Brian, “can I ask you something?”

     Brian blinks. “Yeah, course.”

     “Just before Fred gets up.”

     Brian raises his eyebrows to indicate that he’s listening as he takes a drink of his tea.

     “How d’you feel about roleplay?”

     Brian inhales a bit of tea, and coughs into his mug. He dumps the mug onto the table with a clatter, and coughs into his elbow. “I’m sorry?” he croaks.

     “I’ll take that as a no, then,” Roger says, sitting back. “No harm done. Just curious.”

     “No, wait, hang on,” Brian manages to get out, and takes another drink. He coughs once more, and then feels ready to speak again. “Hang on a sec, you just threw me off. Not exactly what I was expecting to hear this morning.”

     “So you’d be interested?” Roger says, leaning forward again. He waggles his eyebrows at Brian, giving him that smile that always made Brian’s stomach flutter. “Up for a try?”

     Brian holds out his hands placatingly. “Wh— Slow down, love. Can we just — talk about it for a second?”

     “Like, what kind of roleplay?” Roger says, frowning, cocking his head slightly to one side.

     “Yeah, for starters,” Brian says. “Or how about what brought this on?”

     Roger shrugged. “I’ve sort of always wanted to try it, I s’pose. I feel like it’s one of those things that could either work really well, or work really not well at all.”

     “I have to admit, it doesn’t really seem like something I’d expect you to be into,” Brian says. “You’re always so impatient.”

     “I can be patient when I want to be.”

     “Your version of patient is worlds apart from every other human being’s, but all right.”

     Roger shrugs. “We don’t have to try it. It’s just been a little while since we’ve tried anything new.”

     Brian bits his bottom lip, curling his hands around his mug. “What does it involve, exactly?” he asks in a low voice. “How does it go from pretending to be someone else to sex?”

     Roger glances down the hallway, and leans over the table. “I’ve never done it myself, so I only really know in theory. But I suppose, if you get the right... scenario, then it wouldn’t be too hard, would it? It’d both get you in the mood fairly quickly, I’d reckon.”

     “Wouldn’t be hard for you,” Brian says. “You’re always in the mood.”

     “Hey,” Roger protests, “it’s not my fault you look like you do. You and your face and your body and your fuckin’ hands. How am I meant to resist?”

     “Are my hands not a part of my body?” Brian says, just to be difficult, and Roger scowls.

     “That’s what I mean,” he grumbles. “That shit-eating grin you’ve got going on is bloody attractive and it’s not fair.”

     Brian snorts. “All right, your constant...”

     “Randiness?”

     “Yes, randiness, aside — did you have any scenarios in mind?”

     Roger pouts in thought. “There’s the ones that everyone knows. Doctor and patient. Professor and student. James Bond and whoever he feels like shagging, ‘cause he’ll really shag anyone, won’t he?”

     “Sounds like someone I know,” Brian mutters into his mug.

     “Not anymore, I don’t,” Roger says smugly. “Now all of my randiness is your problem, and just yours.”

     “Not quite sure why you’re so smug about that,” Brian says.

     “I’m smug ’cause I bagged a babe, that’s why.”

     Brian can’t help but smile. It’s stupid, but, yeah, okay, it’s cute.

     “So you’ll try it?” Roger prompts.

     Brian sighs, and shrugs. “Yeah, why not,” he says easily.

     Roger grins. “Thanks, love. You’re the best.” He jumps to his feet to lean over and give Brian a kiss, and then goes about making breakfast. “We’ll sort out the specifics later, yeah?”

     Brian hums in assent, his newspaper forgotten about on the table. He’s now just more than happy to watch Roger potter around in his boxers and socks.

 

     “My God, what is that?”

     Roger looks down at himself. “It’s a sexy nurse costume,” he says simply. “I thought that was obvious.”

     Brian can’t help but laugh a little. “When you said you were going to slip into something more comfortable...”

     “I was being funny,” Roger says with a roll of his eyes. He pivots, twisting this way and that, showing off the tiny white and red dress. “I bought it last week; put a lot of thought into it. Don’t tell me you don’t like it?”

     Brian drinks it in from where he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. It’s a woman’s costume, but it’s one of those costumes that’s really more just a tight tube of material than anything else, so it doesn’t fit Roger too oddly, apart from perhaps the front of the chest, and he’s even put the silly little bonnet thing on, and he’s found some black high heels in his size, too. Brian wonders in the back of his mind how much those heels cost, but, when paired with the tightness of the costume, they make Roger’s arse look fucking fantastic, so maybe the price doesn’t matter.

     “Do a little runway walk for me, will you?” Brian murmurs.

     Roger’s face lights up, pleased with Brian’s reaction, and he struts up and down the room, putting on a show, swinging his hips, leaning into the silliness of it all. “So you like it, then?”

     “Where did you learn to walk in heels?” Brian asks absently, his gaze snaking its way up and down his boyfriend’s body. He holds out his arms, and Roger trots over to him without hesitation. Brian takes Roger’s hips in his hands, gently turning him from side to side. Roger’s clear interest and excitement is starting to show, pressing against the taut white material of the dress, and Brian bites his lip.

     “I practiced,” Roger says.

     “Just for this?”

     “Just for you, Bri.”

     Brian hums, and shifts in his seat. He looks up at Roger, whose cheeks are flushed. “It’s really not fair how good you look in this,” Brian says, his voice low.

     Roger preens, the tips of his fingers brushing over Brian’s shoulders. “I hoped you’d like it.”

     Brian ghosts his hand over Roger’s front, where he’s half-hard, and Roger shivers. “You like it too, don’t you?” Brian says. “You know how great you look.”

     “It does sort of turn me on a bit,” Roger confesses breathily. “I like how tight it is.” Brian’s grip tightens on his hips, and he goes to bring him in closer, but he steps back out of Brian’s reach. “We haven’t even got to the roleplay bit yet.”

     “I don’t think we need to,” Brian says.

     “We do,” Roger insists. “You have a costume, too, you know.”

     Brian laughs. “You were serious about that?”

     “You agreed to it,” Roger says. He totters over to the dresser, and pulls out a white shirt and plastic stethoscope. “It’s just this. I thought about getting the whole ensemble, but I decided it’s probably best to start slow.”

     Brian gets off the bed and takes it from him. “When you said ‘doctor and nurse’, I had no idea it was so...”

     “Costumes are part of it,” Roger says. He pats Brian firmly on the bum. “Go on. Go change.”

     “Can’t I do it here?”

     “No, in the bathroom. It’ll ruin the illusion otherwise. And when you come back in, you have to be in character.”

     “I don’t even know what that means,” Brian says.

     “We talked about this,” Roger says with a sigh. “I’ll be the nurse who’s been acting up a bit, yeah? And you’re my boss, because you’re the doctor— I know it’s archaic that I'm in a dress and you're not and you're the boss and whatever, just leave it out — and you need to punish me. You already boss me around in the bedroom enough as it is, so it shouldn’t be too much of a stretch for you.”

     Brian considers trying to change Roger’s mind, but he did agree to it. And it wouldn’t be fair to disappoint Roger. “All right. Let’s give it a go, then.”

     “Yay,” Roger says softly, giving Brian a kiss. “It’s just improvising, yeah? Whatever happens, we’ll just go with it. I trust you.”

     “I trust you, too,” Brian says.

     Roger bites his lip and smooths down his dress, and Brian wants nothing more than to throw him on the bed and tear that dress off him. Roger holds up a finger. “No,” he says. “I see that look in your eye. You can’t get all domineering until you’re in costume.”

     Brian clenches his jaw, groaning. “God, you’re so...”

     Roger leans in close, nipping at Brian’s bottom lip, and it takes everything Brian has to not grab him. “Go get changed,” he whispers.

     Brian growls, and tears himself away, stomping out of the room. He’s thankful that Freddie and John are both out — he and Roger had to wait for weeks until the stars aligned and they had a whole night to themselves, and Brian wasn't too overwhelmed with his workload for uni — because he’s going to make Roger scream his name so loud that people down the street will hear it.

     He doesn’t even bother going to the bathroom, just stripping off his shirt in the hallway and tugging on the starchy red and white pretend doctor’s shirt, which even sports a name tag that just has ‘DOCTOR’ written on it. He palms at himself for some kind of relief, shuddering, trying to clear his head so he doesn’t skip the roleplay entirely and ruin all the work Roger's put into it.

     He doesn’t know what to do with the stethoscope, so he just hangs it around his neck.

     He rests his hand on the door handle, and sighs, trying to push aside how stupid he feels. He knows he’s going to be embarrassed, but this is for Roger.

      _This is for Roger. Just do the best you can._

     He straightens his spine, and opens the door.

 

     An hour and a half later, Brian collapses on the bed beside Roger. “Oh my God,” he pants.

     Roger pushes his sweat-dampened hair from his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, his voice weak.

     “That was...”

     “Yeah.”

     They take a minute to catch their breath.

     Roger rolls onto his side, his arm falling across Brian’s chest, and he kisses Brian’s shoulder. “You were really good.”

     Brian chuckles. “Thanks.”

     “No, I mean, at the beginning bit. The roleplay. I thought you were going to just get all embarrassed and not do it properly, but you didn’t.”

     “I still felt a bit silly,” Brian admits.

     “I know.” Roger kisses his shoulder again. “But you pretended that you didn’t. So, thanks for that.”

     Brian curls his arm around Roger, and Roger reaches up to press a slow, loving kiss to his lips. “I actually didn’t mind it,” Brian says. “Once I forgot how silly I felt, I quite liked it, actually.”

     Roger hums, smiling. “Yeah? You’re not just saying that to get me into that dress again?”

     “I’d say anything you want to hear to get you into that dress again,” Brian says. “But no, I mean it. I’d... We could try it again, if you wanted. If you liked it.”

     “I did like it, yeah,” Roger says. “I felt a bit silly too, at first. But it worked out rather well, in the end. We could do it again.”

     Brian yawns. “God. I’m knackered, I don’t know about you.”

     Roger nods. “Knackered and sore.”

     Brian grins at the ceiling. “Sign of a good night.”

     Roger presses a kiss to his jaw. “It is indeed. D’you want to shower?”

     “No,” Brian grumbles, “I want to stay in bed forever.” But he hauls himself off the bed anyway, and they walk, naked, hand-in-hand, to the bathroom, leaving the absolute mess of a room behind them.  


<<<>>>  


     Brian sits down opposite Roger, and slides across a pair of fake glasses.

     Roger pauses, looking up from the carton of leftovers he’s shovelling into his mouth. “What’s that?” he mumbles around his mouthful.

     “You always know how to sweep me off my feet with your impeccable table manners,” Brian deadpans. He nudges the glasses over. “Put them on.”

     Roger swallows his mouthful and sets down his fork, picking up the fake glasses. He frowns at them, then narrows his eyes at Brian, and says, “I don't like wearing glasses. They make me look like a nerd.”

     "First of all, you're an immense nerd, and you're a fool for trying to pretend otherwise. You also desperately need glasses, and I will absolutely be dragging you to the optometrist one of these days. But these ones aren't real." Brian pushes the glasses even closer, his stomach bubbling with excitement. "Go on, put them on."

     Roger slips them on, and makes a flourish with his hands. “How do I look?”

     “Studious,” Brian says pointedly. “Very in-charge.”

     Roger narrows his eyes. “Two things that I do not get called very often, if at all.”

     Brian leans in a little closer, grinning. “Almost like a professor.”

     “What d’you mean a—“ Realisation dawns on Roger’s face, and his eyes widen. “Oh. Oh.”

     Brian nods. “Mm-hm.”

     Roger takes the glasses off, setting them on the table. “So who would you be, then? The dean?”

     Brian shakes his head. “No. The student.”

     Roger’s eyebrows shoot up. “I’m the professor and you’re the student?”

     “Yeah, why not?” Brian shrugs a shoulder. “Can’t remember the last time you topped.”

     “Sometimes I forget I ever used to top,” Roger says with a laugh. “We used to do that a lot more, didn’t we? Swap.”

     “We don’t have to,” Brian says. “If you’re not as comfortable with it as you used to be.”

     “Shut up,” Roger says dismissively, “of course I want to. God, I can’t wait now.” He sits back, his eyes alive, darting around the room. Thinking. His fingers drum on the table.

     Brian reaches over and steals the leftovers. “John’s got a date this weekend,” he says, moving the noodles around the carton, “and he’s staying over at Ronnie’s. Fred’s trying out this new club in Soho, so we won’t see him till Monday, probably.” He takes a bite.

     Roger fetches another fork from the cutlery drawer, and sits back down, reaching over the table to take a forkful. "I thought uni was booting you up the arse lately. Haven't you had, like, three breakdowns this week alone so far?"

     Brian sighs. "Four," he confesses. "But I think this'll be a good break. It's only one evening." As he constantly has to keep reminding himself.  _It'll be only about an hour. You deserve an hour's break_.

     Roger nods. "I agree. You push yourself too hard sometimes. Your standards are impossibly high. Which," he adds, "to be fair, is probably how you wound up with me."

     Brian gives him an unimpressed look, and Roger laughs. He takes another mouthful of food. “I’ll try to find something with tweed,” Roger says. He chews thoughtfully. “I want you in a skirt.”

     “It’s a bit questionable to always have whoever’s bottom wearing women’s clothes, isn’t it?” Brian says.

     “Not women’s clothes,” Roger says, shaking his head. “Men’s clothes. Because you’re a man, and it’ll be your skirt.”

     “You know what I mean.”

     “I don’t care about the implications right now. I want you in a skirt, all right?”

     Brian takes a moment to mentally adjust. His instinct is to snap, to get Roger to back down, but no — the tables have turned. It sends a thrill through him. “I’ll head to the op shop at the end of the street this afternoon.”

     Roger smiles, and sends him a kiss from across the table. “Good.”

 

     Brian steps into the room, and Roger’s face goes slack. “Holy shit, Bri.”

     Brian ducks his head, hiding his face, smiling bashfully. “Is it all right?”

     “Now I know how you felt last time. You look... Bloody hell.”

     Brian adjusts his skirt. It’s black, and although it’s not tight, it’s short, brushing the tops of his thighs. He’s wearing a white collared shirt and black tie to go with it, and he’s borrowed a pair of Roger’s black Converses, white socks pulled up to his knees. He’s not quite game enough for heels just yet; he already towers over Roger enough as it is.

     Roger steps in close to him, and slides his hands up the back of Brian’s skirt, gripping his thighs right underneath his arse. “I’m going to fucking destroy you, baby,” he growls.

     Brian takes a shaky breath. It’s been so long since Roger called him baby, he forgot how weak in the knees it makes him. “Do you want to get changed now?” he prompts.

     Roger kisses him, hard, roughly, but only for a moment, and then he lets Brian go, hurrying to grab his outfit. “Back in a mo'!” he says cheerily, making Brian laugh, and ducks out of the room.

     Brian doesn’t know what to do with himself now. He adjusts his outfit again. Character. He has to get into character.

     He makes a face. What is his character? Student. He’s a student.

     Yes, he’s a student. In real life. A student who has actual pressing tasks to attend to, but instead he’s spending his evening playing sex dress-ups with his boyfriend.

     No. Don’t think about real life. This isn’t real life. He’s wearing a skirt and he’s about to get slapped and pounded by a ‘professor’ who’s a couple of years younger than him. This absolutely isn’t real life. He’d never resort to anything like this if he received poor results on an exam.

     Not that he would receive poor results. He doesn’t get poor results. He can’t afford to.

     Which, again, begs the question as to why he’s not working on getting adequate results right now.

     “Bri?” Roger calls through the door. “You ready, sweetheart?”

     Brian panics, and decides to just stay where he is, pushing all thoughts of study from his mind. Just focus on Roger. “Yep. Ready when you are.”

     Roger opens the door. He’s wearing black dress shoes, and black jeans, the deliciously tight ones, and a collared shirt and tie, with a red blazer over the top that Brian is pretty sure belongs to Freddie. With his messy, long, blond hair and big blue eyes, he hardly looks the part, but the costume isn’t bad. He’s even got the fake glasses on that Brian gave him, but he takes them off as he closes the door behind him. “Miss May,” he says, and Brian quells the urge to laugh. Just ride out the embarrassment for the first minute or two, he tells himself. Just settle in.

     “Professor Taylor,” he replies.

     “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me today.”

     Brian nods. “Of course, sir. You know I’d do whatever you asked.”

     Brian can see the pleased smile tugging on the edge of Roger’s lips, but Roger takes a breath, and smooths it out. “Yes,” he says. “Well. If you’d like to take a seat.”

     He gestures to the bed, and Brian perches himself on the edge of it. He makes sure to slide his skirt up his thigh, revealing as much skin as possible.

     “What’s the matter, sir?” he asks innocently. “Did I do something wrong?”

     “It’s not about something you’ve done,” Roger says, taking a step in closer. But not too close; not yet. “It’s about something you haven’t done. Or, rather, haven’t been doing.”

     “What’s that?”

     “You haven’t been putting in the work for my class.”

     Unexpectedly, Brian feels a genuine twinge of guilt at the words. Just like you’re not doing the work right now, his brain supplies unhelpfully, but he ignores it. “Me, Professor?”

     “Yes,” Roger says. “Your results are rather less than pleasing, Miss May.”

     Brian feels something tighten in his gut. _It’s not real_ , he tells himself. _You’re just having fun. Stop thinking about uni._

     He forces himself to stay in character, and blinks up at Roger. His beautiful, fit, bossy boyfriend Roger. “Oh no,” he breathes.

     “Yes,” Roger says. “And such poor results deserve punishment.”

     “Punishment?” Brian says, while his most irritating subconscious provides him with unwelcomed memories of his parents keeping him inside all day to study because he received an unacceptable mark for his previous high school assessment. “Oh, no, sir, please don’t punish me,” Brian pleads. “Let me make it up to you. Please, sir.”

     Roger cocks his head to the side. “Hmm. I suppose I have something in mind that could-" He pauses for dramatic effect. "-sway things in your favour.”

     “Anything,” Brian says.

     “Get on your knees.”

     Brian does so.

     Roger moves in close, tilting Brian’s head up with a finger under his chin. Brian's pulse leaps delightfully. “I’ve heard that you’re a bit of a slut around the uni, is that right, Miss May? You’ve fucked almost everyone in my class.”

     “Yes,” Brian breathes. His thoughts are back in order, and he feels arousal stirring in his abdomen. “Yes, I’m a slut, sir.”

     “So I assume you’ve sucked a lot of cock, then?”

     “I have,” Brian says. “I love it, sir.”

     Something flashes in Roger’s eyes at that, and he pauses, swallowing. Brian smiles to himself.

     “I’ve heard some of the boys in your class talking about you,” Roger continues, his voice husky. “Sucking cock is your special talent, apparently.”

     “It is,” Brian says. “My only other special talent is how well I take a cock up my arse, sir.”

     “Holy shit,” Roger mutters, breaking character momentarily. Brian is rapidly growing hard, and he desperately wants to suck Roger off now.

     Roger clears his throat. “Well, Miss May, maybe, if you do a sufficient job today, I’ll boost your grades.”

     “A sufficient job, sir?” Brian says, raising his eyebrows. “With what?”

     “Sucking my cock.”

     Brian nods earnestly. “I’d be more than happy to, sir. I’ll suck you off so good, I promise. I’ll be well-behaved for you.”

     “Maybe, if you’re good enough, I’ll fuck you,” Roger says, sounding a little breathless. “How does that sound?”

     “Please,” Brian says. “I want nothing else, Professor. Anything to get my grades up.”

     “Good girl.” Roger undoes his belt, and drops it to the floor. “Well, do you need any more of an invitation?”

     Brian pounces on Roger’s jeans, unbuttoning them, unzipping the fly, and yanking them down to his knees.

     “Ah-ah-ah,” Roger says, making Brian pause. “Not so aggressively, Miss May. You don’t want anyone else overhearing us. We’re in my office.”

     “Sorry, sir,” Brian says, squirming. Roger’s cock is straining against his boxer-briefs, right near Brian’s face, and Brian is getting impatient. “I just want your cock in my mouth so badly.”

     Roger clenches his jaw, muffling a groan. “Well,” he says, his voice strained, “don’t let me stop you. Just not so loud.”

     Brian goes back to the job, carefully pulling Roger’s underwear down with his jeans. His cock is leaking pre-come, and Brian wastes no time wrapping his mouth around it.

     Roger lets out a moan, low and delicious, his hands sliding into Brian’s hair. Brian takes his time, savouring it, making Roger shudder and gasp and curse. He sucks Roger’s dick until his jaw aches, until there’s tears in his eyes, until saliva drips from the corner of his mouth onto his shirt.

     Roger groans. “Oh, fuck,” he chokes out. “Jesus Christ.”

     Brian moans. He’s so hard that it’s almost distracting, and he’s almost shaking with need, but all he focuses on is his boyfriend and his boyfriend’s cock. He speeds up his ministrations, and Roger hisses, his hands tightening in Brian’s hair. He starts rocking his hips into Brian’s mouth, just shallowly, and Brian takes it.

     Roger’s breath hitches, and Brian knows he’s close. He prepares himself for the taste of come, the feeling of it shooting into his mouth, but then Roger is tearing himself away with a sob. “Get on the bed,” he snaps. “Get on the fucking bed.”

     Brian scrambles to obey, wiping at the corners of his eyes and the corners of his mouth, and Roger shudders, gripping the base of his cock. “Oh God,” he grinds out. “Oh, fuck.” He takes a minute to gather himself.

     Brian lets out a soft whine. He’s sitting up, gripping the bedsheets tightly, his legs out wide. “Sir, please.”

     Roger strips naked. His whole body is flushed, and he looks wrecked. “Do you want me to fuck you?” he says, his voice harsh. “Is that what you’re begging for, you little slut?”

     “Yes, sir,” Brian says. “Did I suck your cock well, sir? Are you happy?”

     “You did, yes,” Roger says. He stands at the foot of the bed, drinking in Brian hungrily. “You live up to your reputation, Miss May. I might just boost your grades.”

     “Thank you,” Brian says.

     “You wouldn’t pass without me,” Roger says. “And without that cock-sucking talent.”

     “Thank you, sir,” Brian says. “You’re my saviour. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

     “Damn right.” Roger gestures aggressively. “Strip.”

     Brian does so swiftly, with trembling hands.

     When he’s done, sitting back in his original position, Roger is squeezing the base of his cock again. “So well-behaved for me,” he says.

     Brian smiles.

     “You’ve done well so far, Miss May,” Roger says. “But not enough to pass my class.”

     Another twinge in Brian’s side.

     Great. Not that again.

     Brian’s face falls. “But you said—“

     “I know what I said,” Roger cuts in. “But I’ve changed my mind. Unless I fuck you, then you won’t be able to pass.”

     It’s like a punch to Brian’s gut, and he falters. “Uh—“

     “That’s what happens when you don’t put in the work, Miss May,” Roger says, walking over to their bedside drawer to fetch the lube and condoms. “You fail.”

     Brian is suddenly finding it hard to breathe, and he stares at the bedsheets.

     “You can suck cock so well,” Roger continues, coming back to stand at the foot of the bed, “but that’s not enough.”

     Brian presses his lips together. Not enough. Not enough.

     “Get on your hands and knees,” Roger demands. “Or you’re going to fail my class.”

     Brian’s bottom lip wobbles. “Um.”

     “What did I say?” Roger growls. “Get on all four— oh my God, Brian, are you crying?”

     Brian takes in a shaky breath, his vision blurring. “No.”

     “Holy shit,” Roger says, abandoning the act completely, dropping the lube and condoms and climbing onto the bed. “Bri, sweetheart, what’s the matter?”

     “Nothing,” Brian says, sniffing wetly. He doesn’t want to look Roger in the eye. “I’m fine.”

     “You’re literally crying right before I was about to do you up the arse,” Roger says, wrapping his arms around Brian and pulling him in close. “That doesn’t seem fine to me.”

     Brian tucks his face into Roger’s neck. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

     “Oh, Bri,” Roger says soothingly, stroking his back. “Did I take it too far? I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

     “No,” Brian says, his voice wobbly. He pulls back, and wipes at his face. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just didn’t realise that I... It was the whole— It’s utter nonsense, but you know how I’m a bit of a— a high-achiever—“

     “Putting it mildly,” Roger interjects.

     Brian smiles. “Yeah. Well. Hearing someone tell me over and over again that I was going to fail a class...”

     “Shit,” Roger sighs. “I should’ve realised.”

     “ _I_ didn’t even realise,” Brian says. He presses a kiss to Roger’s cheek. “You did wonderfully. I’m just being ridiculous.”

     “Don’t be stupid,” Roger says, wiping Brian’s tears away with his thumb. “You’re not being ridiculous.”

     “It was going so well,” Brian says. “I was so looking forward to the rest of it.”

     “You really sucked me off very fucking well,” Roger agrees with a nod. “I was going to fuck you into next week. You know that time you scratched up my back, and I just about started bleeding from it? And Fred and Deacy teased us about it for at least a month? That sort of fucking.”

     Brian tuts. “Great. I fucked all that up.”

     “You didn’t,” Roger reassures him. “We can do that another time. You didn’t fuck anything up. It just didn’t work out tonight. That’s all right.”

     Brian pouts. “I’m sorry, Rog.”

     “Stop apologising.” Roger gives him a soft kiss on the lips. “I love you, yeah?”

     “I love you too.”

     “Then that’s all that matters.” Roger takes his hand. “I’ll make you a cuppa instead, how’s that sound?”

     Brian nods. “Sounds lovely. Thanks, love.”

     “All right.” Roger kisses his temple. "I think we've run out of ginger nuts, so we'll have to go without, I'm afraid."

     He’s almost out the door when Brian says, “Aren’t you going to get dressed?”

     Roger grins. “Fred and Deacs aren’t coming home tonight; why the hell would I want to put on clothes? I want you staring at my arse at all times, thank you very muchly.”

     Brian laughs, and Roger disappears down the hall.

     Brian pulls on a pair of boxers and heads to the bathroom to clean himself up, then follows Roger to the kitchen.

     It’s a funny sight, Roger making tea while naked as the day he was born as if it’s not at all an unusual thing to do. Brian can’t help but smile — and, yes, ogle Roger’s bum — and he walks over to Roger, wrapping his arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You're the best boyfriend ever, you utter loon,” he says.

     Roger twists in his arms to kiss him full on the mouth. “Takes a loon to know a loon.”

     Brian chuckles, and drops three quick kisses to Roger’s lips. “Want to watch a bit of telly? I think Top Gear re-runs might be on.”

     “Oh, really?” Roger’s face lights up. “Go on, then.”

     Brian pats him on the bum, grinning at the light slapping sound, and scrolls through the channels, curled up on the couch, until he finds Top Gear.

     “Good episode,” Roger says, bringing over the tea.

     “Ta,” Brian says, taking his mug. Roger cosies up to him with his own mug, and they fall into a comfortable silence.

     That is, until, about twenty minutes later, the front door opens, and John and Veronica wander in, laughing and chatting, and freeze when they see Roger and Brian on the couch.

     “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Veronica blurts, turning away, and John redirects his gaze so sharply up to the ceiling that it’s almost as if he’s snapped his own neck.

     “Uh,” Roger says.

     “What the hell are you two doing naked on the couch?” John says.

     “Aren’t you staying at Ronnie’s tonight?” Brian says, for lack of anything else. He grabs a couch cushion and presses it onto Roger’s lap. Roger takes it gratefully.

     “We were, but we only had dinner up the street,” John says. “So we thought we’d come back here. Are you two just going to sit there?”

     “We can’t go anywhere, can we?” Roger says. “You’re right there.”

     “How often do you two sit naked on the couch?” John says. “Other people sit there, you know. People have slept there.”

     “I’m not naked,” Brian says. “I have my boxers on.”

     “I am naked,” Roger admits.

     “Go get dressed!” John says exasperatedly. “For God’s sake.”

     “Prude,” Roger says, and he and Brian hurry to their bedroom.

     “It’s not what it looks like,” Brian calls over his shoulder. “There’s a backstory here!”

     “I don’t care,” John shoots back.

     Roger giggles, closing the door behind them. “Shit,” he hisses.

     Brian shakes his head in disbelief. “That is the worst thing to ever happen to me.”

     “Why wouldn’t he text, the rotter? It’s not hard to put two and two together. We’re alone in the apartment; there will be sex.”

     “And tears,” Brian says. “And naked watching Top Gear.”

     Roger laughs, and goes over to Brian, kissing him deeply. “I love you.”

     “I love you,” Brian replies. He kisses Roger, slow and deep and full of warmth. “I know Deacy and Ronnie are home,” he says, “but do you want me to keep sucking you off?”

     Roger smiles delightedly. “I’ll put on some music and play it very loudly,” he says, going to find his phone.

     Brian grins.

**Author's Note:**

> i made a sideblog on tumblr just for reblogging and talking about slashfic, so [follow me](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thelilliofthevalley) (or just come say hi!) if that's something ur interested in!


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